Before and After
by Casa Circe
Summary: ESCAFLOWNE WEEK 2017 Day Six: Penultimate / In Motion. One day a prince, the next a traitor. One day a child, the next a warrior. But what Zaibach has taken is eventually restored.


**ESCAFLOWNE WEEK 2017, Day 6: Penultimate / In Motion**

 _ **Before and After**_

 **NOTE:**

 _ **A tricky set of prompts to work with even if I have always been fond of the word "penultimate." I originally planned to do something ship-related but none of my ideas seemed particularly interesting so I decided to try something fairly generic but hopefully still worth reading. I was a bit iffy on the stuff about Naria and Eriya because I haven't re-watched that part of the series for a while but anyway, hopefully the time line still kinda works.**_

 _ **This is a quick exploration of the states of mind of two characters (or three, technically) before and after they joined Zaibach. It was difficult writing these short pieces because they were so sad and it may seem a bit boring to read them now, knowing how things turned out. But I suppose it was still worth taking a peak at what they may have been thinking on the days before their lives were changed irrevocably.**_

 _ **Enjoy and please let me know what you think!**_

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"Tomorrow, I face the dragon," Folken Fanel thought gravely.

This was supposed to be eve of his greatest achievement, the event that would prove that he was worthy to ascend to the throne, a moment of pride and glory. But he felt no eagerness or exaltation. He stared at the armor that had been laid out as well as the sword that he would use to perform this noble task.

His grief at his father's death was still relatively fresh, and the weight of responsibility that had suddenly fallen upon his shoulders made him even more anxious. He had always known that he was supposed to undergo the succession rite but he still felt woefully unprepared. He had undergone extensive physical training with Balgus and the other sword masters and his skills had been deemed more than adequate to succeed in this grand endeavor. But he knew that it would take more than technical knowledge to succeed and he feared that he lacked certain crucial elements.

He would fulfill his duty but only with a heavy heart. Something had always bothered him about this ancient tradition, the unnecessary brutality of an act that was supposed to confer power and legitimacy on an individual. He had always questioned the need for such violence but his arguments had been met with disapproval. So he had learned to hold his tongue to maintain his family's honor and to keep the peace. But he still felt fundamentally opposed to the values that his ancestors were determined to instill in him.

So much was at stake and though his sword hand still trembled, he knew he had to defeat the dragon somehow. His family and his kingdom were pinning all their hopes on him and he could not fail them. He needed to succeed, not just for himself but for them. There was no place in his life for even the slightest doubt.

"Tomorrow, everything changes," he thought with a sigh and he had no idea how right he was.

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Celena Schezar stared at the flickering light of a candle as she sat by her bedroom window and sighed.

It was still early evening but the sky was gloomier than usual and everything seemed to be covered in darkness. After eating dinner, she had been sent up to her room where she was expected to go straight to bed like a proper young lady.

But she was so bored. She did not want to sleep but there was nothing much for her to do in her room. None of her toys seemed to interest her, and there was no one she could talk to or play with. And she wished she could have stayed out and played for a while longer this afternoon but the weather had taken a turn for the worse.

The grown-ups were allowed to stay up later but she had to go to bed. Celena frowned, frustrated at the injustice of it all. But she had learned that there was no point in arguing with them. They always knew better.

"I wish I could grow up quickly so that my life could be more interesting," she thought, "There is so much I'd like to do. And I don't want anyone bossing me around all the time."

But she would not be downcast after this temporary setback. After all, she had big plans for the next day. If the weather was pleasant, as she hoped it would be, she would be able to run and play in the meadow. She would make her brother chase her but he would never be able to catch up with her. Then, she would laugh and laugh until he laughed too.

Satisfied with her plan, the young girl smiled as she lay down to sleep. Tomorrow, she would run wild and free.

But she would not come back.

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Dilandau Albatou stared at the flickering bluish light of the electric lantern and sighed. He was alone in his tent after another long day of fighting. He tried to tell himself that he had enjoyed the carnage as he always had. But he hadn't. There was even an untouched bottle of vino on the small table in front of him but alcohol had lost its appeal. Something had changed profoundly.

Jajuka checked on him every now and then but he assured the dog-man that nothing was amiss. Dilandau didn't even know why the other soldier seemed so concerned about him anyway. He was not injured or ill, only a little tired. It irked him that he did not feel as energetic as he used to be. But it could not be helped.

Despite everything, the loss of his Dragonslayers still weighed heavily on his mind. Time had not eased the pain and though he was now able to fight again, the force that had driven him so fiercely before seemed to have diminished. He was no longer the same person and this angered him even more. Because he did not know who else he could be and he did not know who he had become.

He seemed to be operating on muscle memory now, his body knowing all the controls of his guymelef so that he still managed to defeat his enemies. But the rush, the thrill that had sustained him for years was no longer there and some days he struggled to find it again. And yet something told him that it was lost forever. And what remained were echoes of that crying child, visions of her weeping haunting his every waking moment.

Dilandau frowned and clenched his fists.

"This is weakness," he muttered, "I will not give in to it."

Tomorrow, there would be another battle, and perhaps tomorrow Zaibach would finally claim victory over all her enemies. And perhaps tomorrow, he will finally stop hearing the voice of the frightened child within him.

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"Naria will return soon, I am sure of it," the Strategos thought, confident that his subordinate would succeed in her mission. Her sister had managed to make it back to the flying fortress earlier but Naria had crash-landed somewhere.

But considering her status as a Luck Warrior, Naria would not be easily thwarted. Strategos Folken trusted in the twins to always get the job done and they had never disappointed him. And with their enhanced abilities, they were even more impressive and unstoppable. Zaibach's enemies were no match to these two fighters, and Folken could not have been prouder of them.

And now that the Emperor's plans were so close to reaching fruition, acquiring the Dragon was the highest priority. There was not a moment to waste. They were so close to victory.

But even Folken had to admit that lately he had been plagued by doubt. Having faced his brother as well as the strange girl from the Mystic Moon, he had begun ever so slightly to question what Emperor Dornkirk had been planning for Zaibach.

So many lives had been destroyed already in this path towards the drastic manipulation of Fate. Was this a price truly worth paying for a world without war? Or was the price too high?

He tried to banish all these thoughts from his mind. There was no use entertaining such notions now. It was too late to turn back. He could not afford to admit that he had been on the wrong side for all these years. How could he give in to doubt now when everything was about to change?

Surely, it was worth all the sacrifices, he tried to reassure himself but the doubt lingered.

Naria would be back soon, and then she would be reunited with her sister. They were truly the strongest fighters he had ever known and also two of the people dearest to him in the world. He had every confidence that they would succeed. He had only to wait, and when they were all together again, alive and well, he would know that everything had been worth it.

"Tomorrow, everything changes," he thought with conviction, and once again, he was right.


End file.
